Thug Life
by daeyeth
Summary: Yo. I'm Ranma Saotome. Some people call me Scarlet, Crazy Horse, or Mr.Ran, but Ranma's the name I mostly prefer. I'm Ranma Saotome and I am a gangster. A crook. A killer. A hitman. I ain't bragging, it's just what I am.
1. Prologue

A/N: This idea is by no means original, but I still love the premise. I decided to try my take at it. This fic takes strong influence from such loved movies/games as Godfather, Pulp Fiction, Grand Theft Auto, and more.

WARNING: This fic is DARK and may contain explicit language as well as violent and suggestive sexual content. This is NOT for the faint-hearted. You have been warned.

Yakuza: the japanese mafia

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Prologue

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I look outside through the barred window of a prison van and watch the sun set, a wistful expression on my face. I knew my type of life had risks and I knew that eventually I'd probably get caught, but...I didn't think it'd go down like this. Double-crossed by my own fuckin' woman. Don't get me wrong, I'm not one of the sappy romantic types. I ain't depressed, sad, or suicidal. Nuthin like that. Shit, I didn't love the bitch and, apparently, she obviously didn't fucking didn't love me. That ain't it. No, right now I'm just PISSED THE FUCK OFF. I can't FUCKING believe that I let that crack whore skank put one over me. I'm fucking better than that. I'm gonna be going away for a long time and I don't think getting out is gonna be no walk in the park this time. No, this time I'm going to one of those serious maximum security penitentiaries. One of the best in Japan I hear....

God fucking damnit, I don't want it to end like this man. I'm suppost to go out guns blazin' and all.

Fuck...

I am Ranma Saotome. I go by many other names...Scarlet, Crazy Horse, Mr.Ran....but Ranma Saotome is the name I prefer mostly. I'm Ranma Saotome and I am a gangster. A crook. A killer. A hitman. I ain't bragging, it's just what I am. Because of certain circumstances, I was forced to take on this kind of life, but I have no regrets. I'm sure that in another world, I could be living blissfully as a lawgoing martial artist (top class of course) protecting the weak and defeating the bad guys. I ain't though. Oh, I do still consider myself a martial artist. I still go by the martial artist's Code of Honor, with some liberties taken, naturally. I don't pretend to fool myself into thinking that I'm a good, misguided kid, and that I'm doing this for the better of mankind and all that shit. Hell no! I'm a bad-mutha fuckin-ass. But I like to think of myself as the good kind, if that makes any sense.

Ya see, I give people what they got comin' to 'em, that's all. Sure, I'll rough up some innocent schmucks occassionally, but nuthin' serious. I tend to stay away from that type of shit if I can help it. No killing families in their sleep, no rape or sodomy, none of that bullshit. That shit makes me sick, I ain't no animal. Naw, instead, I'm what they call a killer's killer. I'm the guy they send out when some dumbfuck, wannabe Yakuza family fucks with the big guys. You know what they say, fire against fire, that the best thing to use against evil is another kind of evil. That's me baby. When they want chaos and havoc, they send in me and my boys. We're the best of the best.

You might be wondering how an elite hitman like me got myself into this kind of situation. Well, it all started when I met this crazy, stuck up broad named Kodachi....

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	2. Kodachi

A/N: This fic takes strong influence from such loved movies/games as Godfather, Pulp Fiction, Grand Theft Auto, and more.

WARNING: This fic is DARK and may contain explicit language as well as violent and suggestive sexual content. This is NOT for the faint-hearted. You have been warned.

Yakuza: the japanese mafia  
  
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Thug Life  
  
I. Kodachi  
  
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I watch the scene below me, bored. I'm currently on protection and crowd control duty in a high class restaurant and club. Yakuza dine at the tables above with their usual stoic expressions and watch down condensendingly on the people at the club floor. They gaze intensely at the dancers, waiting for a girl to pique their interest. The club area is there as personal entertainment, in more forms than one. Every single man in this place is part of the Yakuza or has connections to the Yakuza. The females on the other hand are a mix of high class prostitutes, girlfriends of Yakuza, or simply women looking for a good time. Only exceptionally beautiful women are allowed to come in from the streets. It's always amusing to watch low class Yakuza thugs try and work their charms on the girls at the dance floor and get rejected. Most of the girls there are usually there waiting for a signal from a Yakuza up in the restaurant area. No one but high profile Yakuza bosses are allowed to sit at the dining tables.  
  
Something catches my eye. A rather refined woman is on the dance floor, looking slightly lost and agitated. Her eyes are scanning the area, looking for someone probably. Her date maybe? I wonder to myself what she is doing here. Upon closer inspection she is really nothing more than a girl trying to be something she's not. The excess of makeup and expensive jewelry can't hide her immature features and the youth in her eyes. Her face abruptly takes a gasp of shock which quickly turns to anger. The girl whips around to glare at a man behind her who has an arrogant smirk plastered on his mouth. The two exchange words and I can see the woman become more and more angry with each passing syllable.  
  
With a shrug of my shoulders, I figure I should probably go check it out before they begin to make a scene. I go down the stairs, round the corners to the dance floor, until I reach the girl and the man. I'm closing enough to hear what they are saying now.  
  
"How DARE you lay your filthy fingers on me!" the girl cries out in a high pitched, prissy voice that pains my ears. I refrain a wince.  
  
The man is undettered, still grinning. "C'mon babe, you need to chill out."  
  
"Do you have any idea who my father is?"  
  
His grin faltered. "Who?"  
  
The girl donns a vicious, triumphant smile. "I am Kodachi Kuno and my father is Gokei Kuno of the Kuno family. We are--"  
  
The man scoffs, cutting her off, and his toothy smirk returns. "Ha! Is that it? I could care less, he's just a puppet politician! My boss is a much more powerful man." He takes a step forward and grabs the girl's wrist. "Now, how about we have some fun in the bathroom over there?"  
  
Immediately Kodachi's cocky smile is replaced by a look of fear, although I can see her trying to cover it up in a cold glare. "G-Get your hands off me! If my brother finds out how you are treating me, he will have your head!"  
  
"Ha, like I give a shit!"  
  
Kodachi's cold facade drops completely now, I can see tears welling up in her eyes. "P-Please! LET GO OF ME THIS INSTANCE!" She surprises me by taking her free hand and slap the man hard across the face. A long red gash appears on the stunned thug's cheek.  
  
Angrily, he grabs the free hand roughly and turns the palm upwards. The girl had a diamond ring on her finger with the sharp, jagged jewel pointing up towards the ceiling. "You fucking little slut! I'll--"  
  
Quickly, I step in between the two, a calm look on my face. I grab the man's hand that is clutching her wrist. "Whoa there buddy. Why don't you head over to the bar and cooldown a bit?"  
  
"Stay the fuck out of thi--AHH!"  
  
He screams in pain as I twist his wrist into a painfully awkward position. The man sinks to his knees.  
  
"How 'bout that drink, huh?" I ask the man. "Go on over there and tell 'em its on me."  
  
The man fiercely nods his head. When I let go, he stands up and walks off, but not before giving Kodachi a dangerous glare. I turn to the Kuno girl.  
  
"You okay there uh...Miss Kodachi was it?"  
  
The girl is shaken but manages to keep her composure. "Y-Yes...thank you."  
  
I shrug. "Just doing my job. What're you doing here anyways?"  
  
"My...my date took me here, but I lost him in the crowd," she says.  
  
"Heh, not much of a date if he takes you to a place like this."  
  
"Yes...indeed..."  
  
"Well, I'd call cab and head home if I were you. That guy might be looking for you later."  
  
"I will do that."  
  
I turn to leave but feel a grasp around my wrist and stop me. I look over my shoulder to Kodachi with a questioning gaze.  
  
She hesitates before saying, "May I know your name?"  
  
"Ranma. Ranma Saotome."  
  
As I leave the dance floor I see a smile slowly creep up to her lips. "Ranma Saotome..." she whispers.  
  
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End file.
